


Mirror Image

by PatchworkDragon



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Body Image, Bondage, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut, dwnoga 2003, more smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-21
Updated: 2003-12-21
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:04:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkDragon/pseuds/PatchworkDragon
Summary: Originally posted for Christi in the 2003 Don We Now Our Gay Apparel fic exchange, http://www.juppy.org/santa/stories.php?ForAuthorID=114&Year=2003





	Mirror Image

Nick stood naked in Justin's closet, one hand on his hip and challenge in his eyes.

"You said my clothes were in here, Timberlake. I don't see my bag."

"I put it up. Your clothes are hanging right there."

Nick was surprised. Never before had either of them unpacked at the other's place. "What about my underwear?" he asked as he reached up to choose a shirt from the rod.

"You won't be needing any today," Justin growled as he turned Nick around for a kiss.

Nick laughed into the kiss and did not resist as Justin pressed him back into the clothes. His shirts slid away to the sides, forming a curtain so all he could see was Justin's intense face.

"Is that so?" he teased, trying to get his hands into Justin's sweatpants.

"Yeah," Justin agreed, sliding his own hands down Nick's arms and pulling the other man's hands away from their bodies. Nick was unresisting as Justin pulled his hands up, needing no encouragement to grab onto the closet rod over his head. Justin's kiss set him afire.

Nick barely noticed the first soft click, but the cold metal on his wrist caught his attention just as the second cuff locked into place.

"What the hell?" he asked, pulling a bit to check that his hands were indeed trapped over the closet bar.

"You trust me." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"Cocky bastard," Nick muttered, half in admiration and half in annoyance. "What are you doing?"

"Trust," was all Justin said before bringing his mouth back to Nick's.

Nick let himself be distracted. He was pretty sure that there weren't any cameras in Justin's closet, and the sort of pranks he would expect from his own bandmates had never been a part of his relationship with Justin. So he let go, letting Justin take him to a place where nothing mattered, where he wasn't handcuffed naked in a rival popstar's closet.

When Justin stepped away, Nick started to worry. Especially when Justin left the room. As visions of whips and hot candle wax filled his mind, Nick tugged experimentally on his bonds. He could feel some give, and was pretty confident that if he pulled with all his weight the bar would come out of the wall.

Right into the top of his head.

Before he could really panic, though, Justin came back dragging something large and flat. He leered at Nick as he placed the wooden panel in front of him. The panels unfolded to reveal three full-length mirrors hinged together like a screen.

Justin adjusted the angles carefully, and Nick stifled a laugh. There was colored tape on the floor marking the placement. Only Justin Timberlake would have spike tape marks for kinky sex props. No one else had that particular blend of a lifetime spent on stage and anal-retentive perfectionism.

Justin grinned again before stepping back out of the room. Nick was left to stare at the mirror. Justin had planned this carefully: Nick could see himself from three sides. It was just like being in a dressing room with a designer checking the fit of his pants. Except for the naked part. And the bondage.

He really wished that Justin would stop leaving the room, though. Looking at himself in a mirror had definitely cooled his mood. He tried to see what his fans saw, what Justin saw, all he could see was a clumsy, too-large body. He'd never have defined abs, no matter how hard he tried. He was all soft and shapeless, and the tattoos he could see in the mirror looked like a sad attempt to make a marshmallow look tough. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sight, and tried to imagine Justin instead.

"No no no, open those gorgeous eyes," Justin admonished. Nick looked up, and saw that Justin was holding something behind his back. 

"Don't I get a safeword?" Nick asked.

"What? No, this isn't like that. I just wanted you to hold still and watch yourself. You never really look at yourself during sex, do you?"

"And I suppose you do?"

"Yeah, I like watching you."

"No, I meant..."

"Yeah. I know. And I do look at myself sometimes, watch my body moving against you. It's hot to see us together. I want you to see it, too."

Nick shook his head, not looking in the mirror. He'd never been comfortable seeing himself in a mirror. When he looked at his body, just looked down at his actual body, it was alright. Familiar, easy, comfortable, even if sometimes discouraging. Pictures were ok too, and video, though they could be embarrassing. But looking in a mirror always made him feel that he was looking into the eyes of a stranger. He'd glance out of the corner of his eye if he had to, but he usually styled his hair and shaved mostly by touch. That was why he'd never really messed around with goatees or any other facial hair – you had to look at your face in the mirror to get them straight and symmetrical, and he just got weirded out by it. Mirror Nick was someone else, someone who scared him just a little, like there was another person on the other side of the glass who wanted out, wanted to make Nick change into the other Nick.

He jumped as Justin pressed a palm to the center of his chest. "Look Nick. No, don't look down. Look in the mirror. Tell me what you see."

"I see you touching me."

"What am I touching?"

"My chest, my tattoos, I don't know. What am I supposed to say?"

"Just say what you see," Justin murmured as he slipped around behind Nick. Nick relaxed a little, more comfortable now with the familiar presence of Justin at his back. Much better than hanging there alone.

"Look in the mirror, Nick. Tell me what you see."

"I see us. Well, me and a little of you. Just your hands on my hips and part of your face."

"Don't look at me. What else do you see?"

"I see Nick Carter tied to a pole, stretched out like a sacrifice."

"Here," Justin said, his fingers stroking lightly over Nick's chest, around the tattoos there.

"Skin. Ink."

"Strength," Justin countered. "Power, heart, smooth skin."

Nick watched, unable to look away from the mirror where Justin's fingers trailed ever nearer to his nipples.

"And here," Justin said. "You're decorated." Nick hissed a bit at the tugs on his piercing. "What do you see when you look at these?"

"Mine. My body, my choice, my power to decide." 

"You're a work of art." Justin said as he pushed at Nick, slowly turning him so he stood in profile to the mirror. He stroked the tattoo on Nick's shoulder blade, repeating "a work of art."

"You want the number for my tattooist?" Nick muttered.

Justin's hand stilled, and Nick felt guilty at the sad sigh. "Sorry. This is just... intense, you know?"

"It's supposed to be," Justin replied, kissing his ear. "Now let me show you how beautiful you are." Justin turned Nick further, until he felt the strain of the awkward position all though his arms and shoulders. Nick arched his back into the stretch, standing on his toes to take some of the strain off for a moment, and his eyes drifted shut.

"Open, Nick. Look at the mirror." Nick obeyed, twisting his head to see Justin's hand tracing the lettering on his spine. "This curve, your skin. Too bad you can't taste it, can't run your tongue from here," a gentle press against Nick's tailbone "up to here," and the finger trailed straight up his spine to the nape of his neck. "It's all salt and honey when it shines with sweat. Glowing and golden."

Nick's head was spinning. He couldn't tell which sense to concentrate on, what to hold onto to keep breathing. Touch overwhelmed as Justin's hands moved back down, brushing along his sides and coming to rest on his hips. "Look," Justin said, and sight took over. Nick watched Justin's hands trace the curves of his ass, muscles clenching in reaction, and didn't feel a thing. The only real fact he could grasp was that Justin's hands outlined the curves perfectly, framing him like an offering. Then Justin spoke and Nick's vision blurred as he listened to the words.

"You know why I always try to walk in front of you in public? If I had to watch this perfect ass moving in front of me I'd just tackle you. Right in front of the world. Every time I see it I just want to get my hands on it, get my tongue on it, sink my teeth in."

Nick closed his eyes against the vision of Justin tumbling him to the ground on some red carpet, flashbulbs firing and people gasping in surprise.

"Open your eyes, Nick. Tell me what you see."

Nick looked back at the mirror, startled to see that he hadn't noticed Justin repositioning him again. 

"Big. Soft." Nick was reduced to blunt honesty at the contrast between Justin's flat sculpted abs and the curve of his own stomach.

"Yes, soft as silk," Justin said, smoothing his hands over Nick's belly. Then his hands slipped down, bypassing the place Nick wanted them most, and lay on his thighs. "Strong. Sexy."

Nick stared at himself, wanting to see where Justin would touch him next. Instead, Justin said, "Don't look away, keep watching yourself. I'll be right back."

Leaving? How could Justin leave him here to look at… him? Somehow, though he hated the sight of himself in the mirror, he could not look away. He looked at his face, cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed. His pupils were probably dilated but without glasses or contacts, he couldn't be sure. One thing Justin hadn't thought of. He looked down his body, at the fading mark Justin had put on his neck the night before, remembering what it had felt like to get the mark, the pleasure and the pain. Wondering how it had felt to Justin, what had he tasted like in the moment that the skin broke.

Nick's eyes traveled further, lingering on the tattoos but not really stopping until the nipples. He'd pierced them for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that his mother would hate it. Looking at them, at how the hoops stood out from his body with the nipples erect like this, he felt more comfortable with them than he had since getting them. They were hot. He'd never been with someone who had pierced nipples, and had been unable to convince AJ to let him play with his, so here were a set of his very own to play with whenever he wanted. 

Except, of course, when he was tied up in front of a mirror.

He looked up at his hands. They were a little off center, the right one closer to his head than the left, and he adjusted them. The way he was hanging on, it looked like he was just holding the pole for balance. He let go, grasping again at a different angle so that the cuffs were more obvious. Nice. Hot. Next time, though, he'd ask Justin for padded cuffs, or some of those leather bracelet things. He squinted, trying to see if there was any chafing but couldn't tell.

He also couldn't tell if Justin was in the next room or not, or how long he'd been gone. "Trust," he whispered to himself. 

A bit bored now that the warmth of Justin's hands had faded, he looked down his body again. Actually, if he wasn't standing next to Justin Timberlake, he looked pretty good. He was big, but he'd always been big, always would be. He looked strong, like he could just pick someone up off his feet and throw him onto a bed. 

No one had ever done that to Nick. 

He looked at the man in the mirror, speculating. Would this man want to pick him up, toss him down? Could this man hold him down, hold him still, fuck him hard? He watched as the cock filled quickly, thinking of what he would do if his hands were free, if he was free to kneel, and lick the shaft, take it into his mouth. Nick moaned at the thought.

 

****

 

Justin wasn't sure how long he'd been back in the room. He'd slipped in as quietly as he could, and now stood to the side, watching Nick stare the mirror. Moving a little closer and making some deliberate noise, Justin grinned. Finally, he had Nick's attention where he wanted it: on the mirror. Nick was looking at himself, not trying to catch Justin's eyes anymore; exactly what Justin had wanted.

"What do you see?" he asked. He wasn't sure how many times he'd asked it so far, or what answer he was waiting for, but he would keep asking again until he got it.

"He's big," Nick said, and Justin bit his tongue to keep from disagreeing. Nick was big, and since his voice sounded more aroused than self-disparaging, Justin would let it slide. 

Nick kept speaking, "All that golden tanned skin just stretched out there. It's so hot."

Justin agreed silently. He kept his hands on Nick, turning him to face full on into the mirror. Stroking Nick's back, Justin tried to make himself disappear from Nick's line of sight. To his surprise, Nick kept talking without any encouragement.

"I want him," Nick said. "I want to touch him. I want to pull on the rings in his nipples." Justin's hands slipped around Nick's chest, reaching around to tug at the piercings without any conscious thought on Justin's part. 

"Yes," Nick hissed, back arching so that his ass brushed against Justin's groin. Justin suppressed a moan. Nick was still talking, and he didn't want to distract him. 

"I want to touch him, want to touch his stomach. Want to run my hands through the hair there." Justin obeyed, acting as Nick's hands. He could feel sweat dampening the light dusting of hair under Nick's navel, and he gently rubbed it in.

"Want to hold him, wrap my arms around him and feel his strength against me." Justin moved closer, fitting himself against Nick's back. He tried to keep his own erection away, avoid that contact. This is all about Nick.

"Want," Nick moaned, and Justin could see him straining towards the mirror, looking into his own reflected eyes. A little overcome himself, Justin fished in his pocket for the key. He unlocked one cuff, then relocked it around the pole. Nick didn't seem to notice at first that his hand was free, his grip on the pole so tight that his knuckles were white. Justin gently uncurled one finger, than another. Nick seemed to come back to himself a little and released the pole. He brought both of his hands down, gasping when one was pulled up short. Justin took the bound hand and set it back on the poll, where it returned to its earlier tight grip.

"Touch him," he whispered into Nick's ear. 

He watched as Nick's hand went straight for the nipples, tugging a little at each ring, sliding them through the holes. As the hand moved lower, Justin held his breath. Nick trailed his fingers down to his navel, circling it once before sliding off to the side. Justin bit back a moan as he realized that Nick's hand was moving back behind him.

"I want to fuck him. Want him to fuck me," Nick said. Justin looked at Nick's face in the mirror, following his gaze. Nick was watching himself, staring at his own cock with the same lust he'd looked at Justin the night before. 

"Fuck me," Nick moaned, his hand reaching for his own opening. Justin pulled out the tube he'd just fetched and drizzled a little lube onto Nick's hand. Nick hissed in surprise, his hand jerking away.

"Shh," Justin soothed, and Nick brought his hand back down. 

Justin could not decide where to look. Nick was biting his lip, staring at himself in open admiration and lust. His cock was red and twitching, and Justin wanted nothing more than to taste the wetness he could see at the tip. 

Unless it was to watch as Nick's finger pushed between his cheeks, into himself.

Justin's breath caught, and his legs could no longer support him. He landed on his knees beside Nick, and reached up a hand to his hip. He turned Nick to face him, and watched as Nick's eyes moved to what his hand was doing.

"Do you see it, Nick? See him fuck you. See you fuck him. God, Nick, so hot."

Nick moaned, and Justin reached up, needing to touch him, needing to feel that heat on his own skin. He lay one hand on Nick's thigh, watching in the mirror as he moved it upward to the base of Nick's cock. Nick's hand moved faster, and Justin thought for a moment that perhaps he should have turned Nick the other way, just to see. 

He brought his hand around Nick, stroking him once from base to crown as he slipped his other hand into his pants to mirror the action there. Cupping his hand over the head, he tightened his grip just a bit, rocking his hand the way he knew Nick loved. 

With a cry, Nick came, Justin watching the mirror in disbelief as the white fluid landed on his face. As his own orgasm hit, Justin heard one of them moan, "Nick." 

He wasn't sure which one of it had been.

 

****

 

Nick hung from the bar, panting in exhaustion. His eyes had closed, and he was too overwrought to open them. He didn't want to see, didn't want to know how angry Justin was, how disgusted he must be. How self-centered can you be? What the fuck is wrong with you? You just came on his face, calling your own name.

He barely noticed Justin unlocking the cuffs, carrying him to the bed. Until Justin finally spoke. "Fuck, Nick, that was incredible."

"It was? I mean, I. I'm sorry Justin."

"For what? Never apologize for good sex, man, never."

"But I forgot you were there, I was so wrapped up in myself that I came on you, I used you, I."

"It was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Or felt. As soon as you catch your breath, we're gonna go back in there and do it again."

Nick laughed, relieved. "Can I have padded cuffs this time?"

"Oh, man, did I hurt you?" Nick felt Justin touching his wrists, rubbing a bit, and thought maybe he could risk opening his eyes, just to see his wrists.

"It chafed a bit, but not really pain. I just thought that next time I'd rather not have to worry about it, hold on the right way to keep from rubbing."

"Next time, huh? I like the sound of that."

"Well, you did make space for my stuff in your closet. So I figured there'll be a next time?"

Justin smiled, moving in for a kiss. "Hell yeah."


End file.
